Humbling River
by The Stark Snark
Summary: "The Crow chooses one to avenge themselves and their loved ones that were murdered..." A The Crow/Winteriron AU that no one asked for! I own nothing at all.
1. Chapter 1

So...yep, I decided to do this fic cause it has been bouncing around in my head for some time now. I have yet to see this AU at all so...why not? Anyways, hope you all enjoy!

Also, title comes from the song that was suggested for the title so...yeah.

* * *

**Summary: **The Crow chooses one to avenge themselves and their loved ones that were murdered. One year after, Bucky is brought back and becomes the Winter Soldier. A year after that, he meets Tony again.**  
Pairings: **Bucky/Tony**  
Warnings/Tags:** Profanity, Violence, Character death, possible smut, protective Bucky

* * *

**TONY**

_**Grocery store, New York City  
2008**_

_Tony sighed as he rubbed his face, trying to will away the tiredness that was sipping from his bones as he walked through the store. He would usually Send Happy or Pepper to get his groceries, but they were busy now. So, he had to do it himself. He could only be thankful that the store didn't seem to be too packed. He really did hate crowds and tend to try and avoid them if he could._

_He walked around the corner to walk into the frozen foods isle and he slammed into what felt like a brick wall. He let out a yelp as he stumbled back before two sets of hands were suddenly on his arms, steadying him._

"_Woah there, you okay?" questioned a voice that had hints of a Brooklyn accent. He looked and in front of him stood two men. One was blond with blue eyes that seemed to regard him with an amused look while the second man was a rather attractive brunet with stormy grey-blue eyes, he also had the same amused look as his companions._

"_Erm, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that, I wasn't aware of where I was going." Tony stated sheepishly at the other two let him go. He was seriously too tired to snark or joke about anything. All he wanted to do was to get his stuff he needed to buy and head the hell home. _

"_It's fine." The brunet stated with an easy-going grin. "No harm done. Oh, by the way, the name's James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky. This is my best friend, Steve Rogers."_

_Tony returned the grin with his own, trying to be as polite as possible. "Anthony Stark, but I prefer Tony."_

"_Stark? As in…"_

"_Stark Industries? Yep."_

"_It's nice to meet you." Steve held out his hand and Tony gripped it, shaking the hand before doing the same with Bucky's._

_"Likewise." Tony continued to grin. Maybe these two aren't so bad like some of the others he came into contact with. Just maybe..._

* * *

_**Brooklyn, New York  
2016**_

Tony was biting his lip, always glancing down at his phone as if he was trying to will it to receive a text from one of his two best friends as he walked down the street. It was evening, sun already gone, and they usually had texted or called him by now. He knew they couldn't have been asked to stay longer at their volunteering job at the local Vet Shelter. They would have called while they were on break to tell him that.

They had told them he would as he and they were close. Hell, Tony was supposed to be Bucky's best man at his wedding to whoever he gets with and the same with Steve's wedding.

He ignored the pang in his chest when he thought about his role in Bucky's life before he shook his head. No, now's not that time for that. It was time for him to figure out where the hell the two is so he could kick their asses.

He continued to walk, tugging his jacket closer as the chilly November air breezed over him. He really did hope that they just got held up at the shelter or made it to the apartment they shared and just forgot to call him. He kept telling himself that repeatedly until he turned and paused when he saw a group of people in an entrance of the alleyway, whispering to each other and a few even have their phones out and up to their ears.

He frowned and walked over and pushed himself through the group of people and managed to get to the front, at the entrance. There was a one lone light shining from the wall and down to what looked like two bodies that were laying in a pool of blood.

Tony could feel his heart drop when he noticed the blond hair on one head and the brown hair of the other. His body started to move on autopilot, and he got closer and closer until he was at the edge of the pool, his throat closing.

Steve was laying on his back, his white shirt blooming with red all over his torso. In the middle of his forehead was a single entrance bullet wound and thank god he had his head laying down, Tony couldn't stomach what the exit wound would look like. Steve's usual blond hair was matted with blood and darkened.

Bucky was so much worse. He was laying on his side, facing Steve and now Tony, eyes dull and looking at nothing. His left arm was completely gone, cut off a few inches above the elbow while his right was seemingly reaching out to Steve. Like Steve, red bloomed all over his shirt, soaking it.

"No…" Tony choked out as he took a few steps forward before he fell to his knees, ignoring the blood that was getting onto his pantlegs. "No…nonono, Steve? Brooklyn? Hey, come on- don't-"

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes starting to sting. He gripped the front of Steve's shirt before reaching over and gripping Bucky's hand. "Come on, on your feet…please…"

Everything happened in a blur after that. The police came, removed him from the alleyway- from the bodies- and then, someone had taken his phone out of his pocket and putting it back in that pocket. He could vaguely hear the whispers of others around him, giving him their condolences.

Then Rhodey was there, hands on his shoulders, murmuring soft, comforting words to him and completely disregarding Tony's bloody shoes, blood-soaked knees and bloody hands.

"They're gone." Tony choked out, tears escaping and streaming down his face. "Steve a-and Bucky are gone!"

He felt Rhodey bring him in close, letting his cry into the other's shirt while Rhodey carded his fingers through the short, unruly hair of his.

Usually, Tony wouldn't cry at all, most of all in public, but it was _Steve_ and _Bucky_\- two people he spent the most time with in these past few years. Rhodey was usually off doing military things and Pepper was usually doing SI things.

"It's gonna be okay." He heard Rhodey whisper to him soothingly. "It's gonna be alright."

Deep within his heart, Tony knew that isn't true- not for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**BUCKY**

_**Brooklyn Cemetery, New York  
2017**_

The Cemetery was quiet at night with only the occasional car driving past and the occasional voice of drunkards that were heading home from the bar at midnight. The full moon lit up the sky and casted a pale glow on the tombstones and pathways. There was rumbling in the distance, signifying that a storm was on its way, moving lazily closer and closer.

A call of a crow sounded through the air as the black bird glided down and landed on one of the two tombstones that were away from the others. The one it had landed on held the name 'James Buchanan Barnes' and the one next to it had 'Steven Grant Rogers'.

The crow cawed and began to peck at the stone, as if it was trying to break it open to get something in it. Then, it stopped and waited, eyeing the grave below it with a critical eye.

It took a few minutes before there was movement just under the surface of the ground. It was subtle at first, but it began to be more and more prominent until, finally, it was like a trap door lifted, breaking the ground in a perfect rectangle. The lid of the casket creaked before a figured crawled out of the ground with just one hand, the other gone forever. As the figured continued to crawl, his feet clearing the lid, dirt smudged against the white button up shirt that he wore.

He clambered to his feet with help from a nearby tree, gasping as he got his bearings back. A rumble of thunder made his eyes blink and he shook his head, ignoring the caw of the crow behind him. He took a deep breath and began to stumble away, the flapping of wings following behind.

He managed to get of the cemetery and began his track through the alleyways, the crow that was with him taking the lead. He didn't question it and just followed as he tug off the dirtied button up and discarded it on the ground. He didn't even register his feet landing on broken pieces of glass, rocks and whatever else, he didn't feel any pain.

He didn't even look down at his battered body, at the scars that littered it, nor did he glance at his stump. He could vaguely remember how he got all of that, but it was all fuzzy.

He just kept walking, time seemingly leaving him as he walked through the alleyways almost aimlessly. That was, until he came upon a vaguely familiar alleyway. He walked until he got to a certain point and he dropped to his knees and his bare hand came into contact of the ground. Just as it did, there was a flash of white and then, he was remembering.

* * *

_**Brooklyn, New York  
2016**_

_He and Steve were walking down the street side by side late at night after they had gotten off work, Steve laughing at something Bucky had just said before the blond man slapped him on his back with a grin._

"_Come on Buck don't be like that. You're going to keep breaking those girls' hearts!"_

"_I'm just saying, Stevie." Bucky drawled. "That's what gonna happen when they keep on assuming stuff about me- like me liking them. Just because I was a lady's man as a teen does not mean I'm still am at this age."_

"_Never thought I would ever hear you say that." Steve teased. "Whatever would Tony think!"_

"_That I'm off my rocker?" _

"_Yeah, probably." The two shared a laugh as they continued to walk, their hands stuffed in their pockets so they wouldn't be exposed much to the November air._

"_Shit." Bucky suddenly murmured, realizing what time it was when he checked his phone._

"_What? What is it?"_

"_We forgot to text Tones. We got out of work later than usual, we're usually home by now."_

_Steve facepalmed and he let out a small groan. "Fuck."_

_Bucky began to go through his contacts when a man stepped in front of them, making the two stop on their tracks. Behind, Bucky heard a cock of a gun and that made his heart sink._

"_In the alleyway." The man in front of them grunted. From what Bucky could tell, the man had very short- shorter than his- black hair and a stubble. _

"_Bucky…" He heard Steve murmur as they did what they were ordered._

"_It's gonna be okay, Stevie." Bucky replied quietly as he eyed two other men that was waiting in the alleyway. They were outnumbered and at least one had a gun so he knew there was nothing either of them could do._

_Everything became a blur after that. There was a lot of shouting, pain rippling as bullet rippled through his body, felt the pain of his arm being cut off by…something and him slumping down on his side, eyes watching as Steve got riddled with bullets as well, one entering his forehead and spewing his brains out of the back of his head. He was stretching out his remaining arm, trying to reach for his best friend since childhood, calling to him weakly. Blood was pooling around them and he was fading fast. The last thing he heard was a simple phrase that would haunt him into the afterlife._

"_Hail HYDRA."_

* * *

Bucky gasped as he fell back on his ass, breaths coming out in harsh bursts. He shuddered in horror, eyes wide as he stared at the spot where he had died, right next to Steve. His hand was shaking, and he couldn't stop it.

"No…no, Stevie…" he moaned in despair as he let his head drop in his hand. He had promised himself to always do what he needed to for Steve, to make sure he was fine, but he had failed. "Steve…"

It took him a minute to realize he wasn't alone anymore in the dim-lit alleyway. He lifted his head up and he could see what looked like a grotesque skeleton that wore a black cloak with its hood up. He could only vaguely get glimpses of the red hue that the exposed skull seemed to have.

"I'm hallucinating." Bucky stated bluntly, shaking his head. "I'm a dead guy hallucinating."

"I am no hallucination." The skeleton reassured him in a thick German accent. "I am simply here to give you a means to vengeance."

"Vengeance?"

"Yes. Your soul cannot rest until all of those who have played part in your and your best friend's deaths."

"…I have to kill those people that killed us?"

"The entire organization." The skeleton corrected him. "Every last one of them."

Bucky thought for a moment before he nodded in understanding. "How will I do that when…"

He gestured to his stump. His visitor said nothing, but his eyes glowed an eerie orange color and Bucky gasped in pain that came from his shoulder and stump. He screwed his eyes shut and waited it out. He didn't know how much time had passed and when the pain was subsided, he opened his eyes and looked.

To his shock, a gleaming metal arm was attached to him now. He lifted it up, clenching the metal fist and unclenching it. It was as if it was his actual flesh arm, no delay of action or anything.

"Follow the crow, for it shall be your guide and lifeline." The skeleton stated and, in a blink, he was gone, leaving Bucky sitting there alone.

The crow cawed at him from its spot on a dumpster, spurring him to stand up. With a deep breath, he began to walk once more, following the crow as it led him.


	3. Chapter 3

This is the longest chapter I have written between my two fics. Also, fair warning, this is a flashback galore chapter so...yeah. Enjoy!

* * *

**BUCKY**

_**Brooklyn Apartments, New York  
2017**_

Bucky climbed the steps as quietly as he could as he followed the crow. He cringed here and there at the creaking the steps made as he pressed his foot down on specific steps. He kept climbing, though until he got to the fifth floor. He stepped out of the stairwell; the lights brighter than they had been a year ago from what he could remember. He began to walk down the long, narrow hall, eyes glancing at the doors on either side of him before he stopped at the door that had the number 509 and he stood there, not knowing what he should do.

A weight suddenly landed on his bare shoulder and he turned his head. One black, beady eye regarded him with what looked like to be a key in its beak. Bucky lifted a hand and the key was dropped into it. As soon as the key contacted his palm, he was pulled into another memory.

* * *

_**2000**_

"_Where should we put the spare key?" asked an eighteen-year-old Steve as he held it up. They had just gotten settled the apartment after Bucky, who was nineteen, took him in after his mother succumbed to an illness a few weeks earlier._

"_On top of the door frame?" Bucky suggested with a grin, causing Steve to look at him, unimpressed._

"_On top of the door frame? Seriously?"_

"_Do you have a better Idea?"_

_Steve opened his mouth before he paused and his mouth fell shut, which made Bucky grinned in triumph before grabbing the key, opening the door and, after making sure no one was around before reaching up and carefully setting the key on top of the door frame. Then, he went back in and closed the door, dusting off his hands. _

"_No one's going to see it." Bucky stated with confidence. _

"_Whatever you say, Buck."_

* * *

Bucky shook his head and, after a taking a deep breath, he slotted the key in and turned it and the key turned effortlessly, the lock unlocking with a click. He twisted the knob and pushed the door open and he stepped inside, the door closing behind him, eyes looking over every square inch he could see.

The living room was just how he remembered it, which was surprising. It was still a decent size for two people with a familiar couch that was nestled against the wall with a coffee table in front of it. There was a window on the far wall that looked out on the alleyway below. Across from the couch was a TV that was mounted on the wall. Below it was another table that had a DVD player, some DVDs and two framed pictures.

He made his way over and picked up the first picture. It had him and Steve celebrating getting the apartment, which was his idea to boost up Steve's mood. It had been taken by him as well, hence the picture seemingly been taken crookedly.

He set it down and picked up the second. It was of both him and Steve again, his time it was when Steve had turned twenty-one and they both had a drink in their hands. It was, once more, taken by him, trying to stretch his arms as out as he could before taking a picture.

* * *

_**2003**_

"_Happy birthday, birthday boy!" Bucky stated as he walked into the apartment, a case of beer in his hand. He closed the door behind him before walking over to the couch and sitting next to Steve, who was busy sketching something that Bucky couldn't see. He didn't mind as there's only one thing on his mind; making sure that Steve had his first drink with the older._

_He watched as Steve flipped the sketchbook closed, setting it down on the coffee table before giving him full attention before eyeing the case that he held in his hand. Bucky just set it down on the ground, took one bottle out of the case, opened it and handed it to Steve before grabbing and opening one for himself._

"_Come on, Stevie. Don't be so uptight. You turned twenty-one, you know you need to have at least one drink on your birthday. It is law."_

"_I doubt that." Steve mumbled before they gently knocked their bottles together and he took a sip. His face automatically pinched from the taste and Bucky let out a bark of laughter. Steve gave the older a mock glare before grumbling and taking another sip while Bucky took a large swig._

* * *

Bucky set the frame down before walking into the kitchen/dining room. The sink, cabinets, fridge and stove all sat snugly against one wall while a rather small table stood in the middle of the room, three chairs were pushed into it.

He took a breath and set a hand one a countertop.

* * *

_**2005**_

"_What are you trying to make?" Bucky questioned as he peered into the pan that held…well, something burnt._

"_It was supposed to be Pancakes." Steve muttered as he stared at the pan. "I was trying to cook us a good breakfast this time since you worked late last night."_

_Bucky pat Steve's back soothingly. "Well…. A for effort. Come on, let's have breakfast at that one café- the one with that cute waitress you're always looking at."_

_He slung his arm around Steve's shoulders cheerfully, ignoring his best friend's stuttering and the pink tint that dusted the other's cheeks._

* * *

He turned and walked out of that room, through the living room and stopped at the closed door that was Steve's room. He steeled himself as much as he could before he pushed the door open, holding his breath as it swung in a wide arc and hit the wall with a dull thud.

A bed was against the wall, right next to the window that was on the far side of the wall. The bed was made, ready for its once occupant to come and sleep in once more. A dresser was on the other side of the room with an old TV sitting on top of it. There was just enough room for some framed pictures to sit. There was a closet on the opposite wall of where the bed sat, still closed. On the wall above the bed, there was an Uncle Sam 'We Want You!' poster.

He made his way over to the dresser, looking at the frames and the corner of his lips twitched upwards. They were all from their childhood- well, Steve's favorites anyways. One was from when they had first met, the second was when they were in middle school and last was after their graduation.

He shook his head before heading out of the room, down the hall and stopped in front of his own door. He didn't hesitate to open the door and walking in- before stopping in surprise at what he saw.

The set up was Identical to Steve's but his bed had clearly been slept in. The covers were a mess and the pillows were not in their proper place. The TV was a small flat screen and was mounted on the wall above the dresser, so there were more framed pictures that sat. He knew for sure he had the same type of TV that Steve had before they were murdered.

He shook his head and made his way to his old bed, leaning down and grabbing the covers. Papers fell out of the folds when he lifted it, making him frown. He dropped the cover before peering closing at one and he could see a very familiar handwriting. To him though, other than a few words, everything was gibberish, like this specific paper was used for some equations.

The same could be said for another paper that he caught sight of, but it seemed to have dried up tear stains on it.

He felt his throat tightened as a thought entered in his mind on just who was staying in the apartment, on who had been obviously sleeping in his bed.

He stepped away before walking over to the dresser, looking at the framed pictures that sat there. The first one was of him and Steve again, this time it was them going to prom with their dates. The next was their first Christmas at the apartment and when he got to the third picture, he paused when it got the first Halloween, he and Steve had…with Tony.

He was wearing tactical gear Tony had gotten for him along with some black face paint around his eyes- at least, he think it was face paint- and Tony was is the generic scientist outfit. Steve was in a military dress uniform from the WW2 era. Tony was standing between them, arms thrown over both of their shoulders. He was grinning while Steve was smiling and he was trying to keep a stoic expression, which was a fail because the corner of his lips was turning upwards.

He lifted his hand and slowly touched it.

* * *

_**2009**_

"_Hold still!" Bucky heard Tony huffed in front of him as he kept his eyes closed. He could feel smaller hands smearing the black face paint on his eyelids and the area around his eyes. "I'm almost done."_

"_Is this added touch really necessary?" Bucky questioned the younger._

"_Of course, I don't actually have any masks so this will have to do as the next best thing."_

"_If you say so, Tones."_

"_I know so." Bucky could just hear the cheekiness in Tony's tone. "Done."_

_Bucky opened his eyes before he went straight into the bathroom and peered in the mirror at his reflection. The black around the eyes were heavily smudged with some streaks going past his eyebrows and cheekbones._

"_Scoot." Tony nudged him out of the way so the other could wash his hands and Bucky watched as the black paint went down the drain. _

"_You two almost done?" asked Steve from the living room._

"_Almost." Tony answered._

"_Hurry up, we're gonna be late!"_

"_Be patient, ya punk!" Bucky shouted back playfully before going behind Tony and shuffled passed and through the door, walking into the living room._

"_I'm not even going to ask what Tony was thinking." Steve deadpanned once he saw Bucky's eyes._

"_Oh, shut up, Steve." Tony grumbled as he walked into the living room after Bucky. "Gotta make do with what you got."_

_Bucky watched as Steve just rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie._

"_Let's go, Doctor, Assassin. Time to get this show on the road." Steve was out the door already, making Bucky snort before he followed with Tony._

* * *

Bucky took a shuddering breath, letting his fingers fall from the picture. God, he was so hung up on Steve that he didn't even think about how Tony must feel once he learned of their deaths. He was a terrible friend.

His eyes lingered on the picture before he looked to the next one and his breath caught in his throat. The picture was the most recent one prior to his death, a few months before. He was laying on his back, obviously asleep on the couch. A foot was planted on the floor while his other leg was stretched out.

What really got Bucky, though, was that Tony was _laying_ on him. The younger had slotted himself between Bucky's legs comfortably, stomach against Bucky's crotch, head laying on Bucky's chest. He could see Tony gripping onto Bucky shirt while Bucky had an arm wrapped around his waist, and it was obvious that Tony was asleep also from the content look on his face.

He swallowed and touched the picture.

* * *

_**2016**_

_Bucky took a swig of his beer as Tony took a swig of his and Steve taking a sip of water, much to Tony's and Bucky's amusement. Since that first time drinking with Bucky, Steve had decided to just chose water often, but Steve did have his moments where he does choose to drink._

_Tony let out a laugh at something Steve had said, making Bucky eye the two. They were getting long, which was great. Hell, Steve even said that Tony could be his best man at any future weddings that Steve may have. Bucky couldn't talk, though, he had said the same thing. Although, it was much more strained with Bucky, giving his feelings for Tony._

"_Brooooklyyyyyn…" Tony drunkenly drawled as he leaned heavily against the said man. _

"_Yes, Tony?" It was clear to Bucky that he really should cut Tony off- he had multiple of bottles already._

_Tony didn't say anything, he just nuzzled into the other man with a mumble. Bucky listened as Tony's breathing evened out, signaling that he was now asleep. With a sigh, Bucky maneuvered them until he was laying on the couch and Tony was laying on top of him, an arm securely around the other's waist._

"_Don't you two look cute." Steve teased, making Bucky shoot him a look. Steve just threw him a grin before starting to clean up and Bucky just dozed off after a few minutes._

* * *

A caw broke him out of the memory, making him blink and look. The crow was on top of the TV, head turning to look at the closet before looking back at him. With a deep breath, he stepped away from the dresser, walked over and opened the door. All the clothes he had was inside- except for a few articles of clothing.

He knelt to peer at the bottom of the closet and there, he could see a box. He carefully opened it and the tactical gear was all clean and void of wrinkles and any forms of dirt. He took it all out of the box, as well as the old boots beside the box, And changed his pants before putting on the rest of the technical gear before he paused and looks down at the sleeve that was covering his new arm. He reached up and gripped the sleeve before he ripped it off in one, solid motion. Then, he was putting on his boots, grab the face paint and did his best to recreate Tony's work. He made sure to put it back where he found it, washed his hands before putting on the fingerless gloves.

After walking out and replacing the key from where it was, he got onto the roof to stare out to the darkened city, the crow landing on his shoulder. He reached his flesh hand up to feel his lower jaw and he knew that he was going to have to find something, a mask, to hide the lower half of his face.

He will figure that out and then, he will move on with the mission.

Burning the HYDRA organization to the ground once and for all.


	4. Chapter 4

**TONY**

_**Brooklyn Apartments, New York  
2018**_

It was still daylight when Tony sluggishly got the key from the top of the doorframe, unlocking the door and shuffled inside, letting the door swing behind him as he made his way to the couch. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the back of the couch before setting the key down on the coffee table and sat down on the said couch with a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and just stared blankly at the monitor, the events of the days catching up with him- among other things.

Today was the two-year anniversary of the murders of Steve and Bucky, and it was really hitting him hard as it had when it was the first anniversary. God, he missed the two assholes, he really did. He missed their humor, their bantering…everything.

He shook his head and grabbed the remote and clicked the power button, watching as the screen of the monitor came to life. An anchorman behind the news desk filled the screen, droning on about something he really did not care for. He tilted his head back with another sigh, knowing that tonight was going to be a long night of drinking for him.

This was the only night he permitted himself doing some heavy drinking. He had to give himself at least that so he could forget about the pain within him for just one night. If he didn't…well, he would most likely regress to the state it was in during the months after the murders. Days and nights full of alcohol. It was only thanks to Rhodey's and Pepper's intervention that stopped him from getting worse. How they managed to keep dealing with his shit, he'll never know but he was grateful.

"_Now, we will send you to the man on the murder scene in Central Park. Adams?"_ Tony blinked and looked at the screen. The scene switched to a field reporter that was standing in front of yellow police take in the stated park.

"_Well, the scene is pretty grueling, Matt."_ Stated the reporter. _"The bodies of thirteen men was discovered this afternoon. Two people who found them had stated that this was the most disturbing sights that they had seen to date. So far, we know that they belong to the notorious gang of our city, HYDRA. Now, it's believed that the same person who killed these members also killed the other members around the same time and months after up until now."_

"Good fucking riddance." Tony huffed as he continued to watch. A picture popped onto the screen, a shape of some type of bird burned into the grass.

"_This is one reason why we think it's the same unknown suspect. At every crime scene, there's always this shape that came up. We think it's their calling card of sorts. We have some eyewitnesses this time but they only reported a figure walking. When asked, the figure called himself The Winter Soldier. We believe-"_

Tony turned off the TV, not caring if they had more to say about it or not. Knowing that someone had been taking care of the trash was more enough for him. He always had hated that damn gang, and all he wanted to do is to burn the gang to the ground.

He shook his head and stood, stretching before he dragged himself over to Bucky's- _his_ bedroom, tearing off all his clothes when he walked in except for his briefs. He slipped into a cozy pair of sweatpants and, after closing the blinds, slipped into the bed and curled up under the covers with just his head poking out. He shivered at the cool covers until they warmed up thanks to his body heat, letting him get comfortable.

He usually doesn't take naps or go to bed early, he was always up so, so late doing one thing or another. Today, he was rather tired, so napping for an hour or two shouldn't hurt, right?

He felt his eyelids drop until they closed, and he knew no more, just his dreams.

* * *

**BUCKY**

He knew that someone was in the apartment as soon as he noted that the key that usually sat on the door frame had gone. He was forced to climb up the fire escape- thank God the sun had just set- and slip inside through the unlocked window in the kitchen. He silently closed it once the crow flew through and land on his shoulder. He tugged off his mask, slipping it into his pocket and setting his rifle quietly on the table.

He still wore the black face paint around his eyes, even if a strand or two of his now shoulder length hair get caught in it.

He made his way through the apartment, noting the unknown jacket that lay on the back of the couch and he could tell that the remote was moved. He had a good idea about who it was, but he wasn't so sure as he was never around when the other person was here.

He stalked silently towards his old room and stopped in the doorway, eyes taking in the lump under the covers on his old bed. He hesitated for a minute before making his way over to the bed and knelt down, now able to take in all the features that he had missed since his resurrection, the features he forced himself not to look for when he's on rooftops, looking down to look for other members of the HYDRA gang to murder.

He memorized the features he had longed to see, as well as the dark circles under the other's eyes. It pained him to know that Tony hadn't been gotten much sleep these passed few months, most likely longer. He would do anything to make sure that the other could get a better night's sleep.

He reached a cool hand towards the other's face, brushing the bangs slightly before laying his hand against the side of Tony's head, thumb stroking the other's cheek.

He welcomed the warmth that Tony had to offer, even with minimal contact. It made him feel more human again.

He froze when Tony shifted slightly, letting out a small noise before his eyes fluttered open and he was staring into his own.

"…Brooklyn…?" Tony's voice was heavy with sleep and he was giving the other a small blink and he made sure, within that blink, he fled, grabbing his rifle and mask on the way out, leaving just as quietly as he came in.

He hoped that Tony would just believe that it was a dream and just leave it.

But he knew that Tony was too smart for that and will most likely try and find him. He just knew Tony too well. No matter how much he wished, Tony would not leave anything alone.

It terrified him, the thought of what kind of Tony could get into.


End file.
